<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss version="2.0"
	xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"
	xmlns:wfw="http://wellformedweb.org/CommentAPI/"
	xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"
	xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"
	xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/"
	xmlns:slash="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/slash/"
	>

<channel>
	<title>WIRL Project &#187; weight</title>
	<atom:link href="http://www.wirlproject.com/tag/weight/feed/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
	<link>http://www.wirlproject.com</link>
	<description>What It&#039;s Really Like.</description>
	<lastBuildDate>Mon, 20 Apr 2026 22:27:01 +0000</lastBuildDate>
	<language>en-US</language>
	<sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod>
	<sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency>
	<generator>https://wordpress.org/?v=4.1.37</generator>
	<item>
		<title>The &#8220;Dad Bod&#8221;? Seriously?</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/the-dad-bod-seriously/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/the-dad-bod-seriously/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 14 May 2015 16:30:49 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Sara Brennan]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Family]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Health/Fitness]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Bar]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Body]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Dad]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Dad Bod]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Fluffy]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Gym]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Man]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Mom]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Mom Bod]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Not Fair]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Seth Rogan]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[weight]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Woman]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Workout]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=6147</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[So, what the hell is the &#8220;Dad Bod&#8221;? It&#8217;s been trending on social media and showing up on the news lately and I&#8217;m not sure what to think of it. I guess this, &#8220;Dad Bod&#8221; has always been around&#8230;it&#8217;s the guy who is over the age of 25 and has a healthy balance of hitting the bars and hitting the gym. He wants to look good for the ladies his lady, but loves his beer just as much as he enjoys his &#8220;high protein/low carb&#8221; meal to come in the form of chicken wings. Underneath the belly hair and beer gut you&#8217;ll find a nice set of strong abs, but this is not for all to know &#8211; only a select few will ever get the privilege to know that this man is &#8220;ripped&#8221;. And lastly, somehow, this guy is always popular; he had loads of friends and enjoys his social time. Probably because he&#8217;s not spending every last waking second at the gym, right? Well, call me crazy, but women seem to LOVE the Dad Bod! Oddly enough, the super fit guys, like the ones in Magic Mike, come across as self-centered and insecure; why do they feel the need to be spending SO much time at the gym? I mean yeah, sex sells, but at the end of the day, I&#8217;d rather be next to a smart, intelligent, funny, empathetic, chubby guy over some muscle head who is only concerned with himself. For me personally, I was lucky enough to marry a rare breed of man&#8230;one who is super concerned with being fit, but also holds the traits of the man who typically has the &#8220;Dad Bod&#8221;. Wow, I feel special! &#8230;at the end of the day, I&#8217;d rather be next a smart, intelligent, funny, empathetic, chubby guy over some muscle head who is only concerned with himself. So, anyway, I said I was not sure what to think of this whole Dad Bod thing and here&#8217;s why&#8230;why is it called the &#8220;Dad&#8221; bod? And what about the &#8220;Mom Bod&#8221;? Women bear the child and deal with ALL KINDS of bodily changes including stretch marks, fat in extra places, saggy boobs, a stretched uterus, and the urge to pee when we laugh, sneeze or jump&#8230;but yet, &#8220;sexy&#8221; for a woman is still the extremely slim, barely clothed, ripped, long haired woman &#8211; who does not represent the &#8220;mom&#8221; community the least bit! If a mom chooses to only workout periodically (or never), she is considered chunky, think, or even frumpy! I know, a lot of guys are all-about-that-base, but it&#8217;s not really what is projected, especially on TV, magazine covers, and social media. Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter are full of selfies, especially from women, but how many &#8220;takes&#8221; and &#8220;edit&#8217;s&#8221; did it take for you to publish the one you did? LOTS! I mean, the standard is set pretty HIGH (see right). To get the perfect selfie, you have to make sure you have the right light, angle, makeup, and that you crop out that extra arm fat, right? Or you have to exhale so hard and hold your breath to make your stomach look thin that you literally pass out mid selfie! Sheesh, it takes a lot of effort for a woman, let alone a MOM, to look &#8220;good&#8221;. But, not the man who owns the &#8220;Dad Bod&#8221;&#8230;he&#8217;s hairy, fluffy, and fabulous with very little effort? WTF? It&#8217;s just not fair! I have nothing against the &#8220;Dad Bod&#8221;, I actually agree with the fact that sexy can be something other than tanned, toned, and perfect! So, to wrap this up, I&#8217;ll finish by saying I have nothing against the &#8220;Dad Bod&#8221;, I actually agree with the fact that sexy can be something other than tanned, toned, and perfect. However, we need to shift this thinking towards females as well! Let&#8217;s empower the &#8220;Mom Bod&#8221;! So what IS the &#8220;Mom Bod&#8221;? It&#8217;s not perfect &#8211; that&#8217;s basically it. I would say the &#8220;Mom Bod&#8221; could be defined as a woman over 25 (or who&#8217;s had a baby) who tries her best to fit working out into her busy schedule, but also enjoys a grande Carmel Ribbon Crunch Frappaccino from Starbucks every now and then (or everyday) along with a cupcake, cookie and/or piece of pizza (sometimes). The woman who wears the &#8220;Mom Bod&#8221; is strong mentally, but also physically from picking up her children hundreds of times per day. She&#8217;s not fat, but she&#8217;s not a toothpick either &#8211; she&#8217;s got muscle, but it&#8217;s not bulging. She also has a lot of friends, but may not have the time to socialize with them as often as she&#8217;d like and her close friends and family see her inner AND outer beauty.  I challenge us women, in true WIRL style, to start posting the &#8220;real&#8221; you online and on social media; no filters, cropped pictures, or retakes &#8211; just the raw, real you! Show us what it&#8217;s really like. I&#8217;m sure we all know a woman who may be insecure in her &#8220;Mom Bod&#8221;, we all are! I challenge us women, in true WIRL style, to start posting the &#8220;real&#8221; you online and on social media; no filters, cropped pictures, or retakes &#8211; just the raw, real you! Show us what it&#8217;s really like. And, I&#8217;ll bet we&#8217;ll find that men LOVE it&#8230;just as much, if not more, than women love the &#8220;Dad Bod&#8221;. What do you think? I&#8217;d love to see your thoughts in the comment box below. (Watch this video below for more of a dialogue of this &#8220;Dad Bod&#8221; vs &#8220;Mom Bod&#8221; conversation.)]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.wirlproject.com/the-dad-bod-seriously/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Why Does My Weight Get to Dictate?</title>
		<link>http://www.wirlproject.com/why-does-my-weight-get-to-dictate/</link>
		<comments>http://www.wirlproject.com/why-does-my-weight-get-to-dictate/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 08 May 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Kate Robinson]]></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Entertainment]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Health/Fitness]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Be Heard]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Body image]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[depression]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Diet]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[highasakate]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Scale]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Size]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[weight]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[weight gain]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Workout]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.wirlproject.com/?p=5894</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Happy Thursday, everyone! Not for me, though. I think today sucks balls. And I thought yesterday sucked balls, too. Who knows what kind of balls will be sucked tomorrow…. “Damn! Why’s Kate in such a shitty mood? What did Adam do!!!!” Actually, it’s not Adam at all – it’s 100% me. I’m in a really fucking shitty mood because……. I. Feel. Fat. Before I continue, I’d like to say something. I am not a medical professional. In fact, I passed all of my physical science classes by the skin of my teeth. So if you’re reading this and hoping that I’ll provide some EUREKA moment of clarity that will solve your weight problems – don’t bother. I’m as clueless and lazy as you are. Another thing I’d like to point out, is that I’m thin. How thin? None of your goddamn business, that’s how – but not too thin…. that’s for sure. But the reason I’m telling you this, is because I know some of you know what I look like and will be rolling your eyes with a word bubble hovering over your head that reads, “#skinnybitch #skinnypeopleproblems”. But it’s important you know this, because I sincerely feel that there is this radical misconception that only fat people can feel fat, and that if you’re thinand feel fat, then you’re really just fishing for compliments. I stand by this statement 100% because ANY time I’ve tried to even broach the subject of how I am feeling about my weight, guess what? Some of my friends roll their eyes, mad-dog me and then tell me to, “Shut the fuck up.” But I can’t help it! Sometimes that’s how I feel! For example, over the past two weeks, I have gained 5 lbs. Now this may not seem like a lot to some of you, but 5 lbs. on a fat person and 5 lbs. on a skinny person look wayyyyyyyyy different. And no – I will not be politically correct and call fat people “overweight” Fuck that – you’re fat. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Does it make you less of a person? Of course not! Does it mean you’re not beautiful just the way you are? Fuck no – as long as you’re happy, DO YOU. I’m just calling a spade a spade. If you are carrying a lot of extra weight around your major organs, what’s that weight made of? Dollar bills? Laundry baskets? Lawn chairs? No – it’s made of fat. But that’s not the point of this post. I could give two shits how much a person weighs; if you’re a good person, that’s all I care about. Well…. that’s not entirely true. Obviously, if you’re carrying excessive fat around your major organs, preventing them from working properly, and you also happen to be someone I care about, then it will matter to me. But I’m not your mom, so I will never try to make you feel bad about it. But if you are reading this, and we’re friends, and you happen to be overweight, know that I want you to get into better shape for your health – NOT for your closet. Okay, now that that’s out of the way, allow me to get back to my main point. I feel fat. I know that logically speaking, I’m not, but it doesn’t matter. It’s how I feel. It boggles my mind how much power I give my scale. Seriously. Every morning, after I pee (morning pees are the BEST!!!!!) I weigh myself, and then, like an idiot, I allow the number on the scale to dictate how my day will go. How fucked up is that?!?! How did a fucking square, made in Taiwan, with numbers on it, gain so much power? Someone please tell me? I just don’t get it. It’s like there are two little synapses inside my brain, having a little conversation. Good Synapse: “It’s okay, Kate. No matter what the scale says, you are perfect just as you are.” Bad Synapse: “Fuck that shit. If you so much as gained 1/2 a pound, you are a loser and are completely unloveable. Step away from the bread, you fat whore.” Good Synapse: “Shut up. Don’t listen to it, Kate. Just drink a lot of water.” Bad Synapse: “Yeah… listen to Good Synapse, you bloated goat. And remember, water does not mean chocolate milk…….. Fatty. Hey! I just realized something…. Kate and ‘weight’ rhyme! HAAHAAHAHHAHA – that means you ARE fat. Fat, bloated &#38; gross. Stay indoors. Don’t subject the world to your FUPA.” Me: “Hey, Bad Synapse. Did you realize your initials are BS?” BS: “Hey, Kate Weight, did you realize you’re fucking fat? I’m shutting down your endorphins so you suffer!!!!! Suffer, you fat bitch. Suffer!!!!!!!!!!!! I know – I sound crazy. But, truth be told – if I were to write this post when I’m feeling skinny, I’d probably end up ‘there-‘there’ing myself and writing down all sorts of euphoric wisdom. But guess what? That’s not how life works. Sometimes you love yourself, and sometimes you wish you could be anyone else BUT you. And it sucks. It really, really sucks. BUT, it’s important that men and women of all sizes understand that even the skinniest people aren’t happy with the way they look sometimes. In fact, I think it’s fucking rude to tease skinny people about their size – EVER. If it’s not okay to tell a fat person, “Dude! Put the burger down!”, why is it acceptable to tell a skinny person, “Dude! Eat a burger!” Guess what? It’s not. Okay, I’m getting off-topic. Back to my venting. I was chatting with a friend of mine recently, and she was really bummed out because she had gained some weight and was having a difficult time getting rid of it. I can totally relate. It is so fucking frustrating to try your best and still feel like you’ve failed. Every morning you wake up and promise yourself you’ll do better, and then as you turn out the lights at night you feel like a failure. You tell yourself, “There’s always tomorrow.” Well guess what? That is one fucked up way of thinking. And I can say that because that’s exactly what I say and how I feel. YOU ARE NOT ALONE!!!! Why are so many of us afraid to admit when we’re feeling bad about ourselves? I have yet to meet one single person who loves themselves so much that they never have a bad day and they never feel depressed. You wanna know why? Because they don’t fucking exist. They don’t!!!! And……. if you’ve met someone like that, run as quickly as you can in the other direction, cuz that person is in such denial about the realities of life and is so detached from their own feelings that they will most likely end up on an episode of “I Thought I Knew Them.” No, that’s not a real show, but it sure as hell could be! Think of all the killers, rapists, child molesters, con artists, etc. who portrayed themselves as “having it all”. Think of all the Dateline interviews where the victims or acquaintances look at the camera and say, “He/she was such a nice person. Never in a million years did I think….” “I thought I knew them.” And for the people who say they never weigh themselves? I’m telling you right now that I envy you. I am jealous and bitter, but most of all, confused. I can’t imagine going a single day without weighing myself. But perhaps that’s the problem. Perhaps I need to calm the fuck down and reassure myself that the scale means NOTHING. The scale doesn’t pay my bills. The scale doesn’t get my nails or hair did. The scale doesn’t cuddle with me and tell me I’m pretty. The scale doesn’t rub my feet on the weekends and help out with the kids. The scale doesn’t feed the dogs or water the garden. In fact, the scale doesn’t do SHIT.Literally. It literally does nothing. At least a dog licks your face and lays in your lap (regardless of its size). Does the scale lay at your feet and follow you around the house, sensing your sadness and wanting to make it go away? Fuck no, it doesn’t. It takes up 12 square inches of my bathroom and 100% of my brain. How is that even possible?!!?!?!? FUCK. YOU. SCALE! I know…. I’m cursing a lot. I can’t help it and I don’t want to, either. I write the way I speak. In fact, not to plagiarize myself, but I’m pretty sure it says that it my bio, as well. And anyone who knows me knows that, while my vernacular may be broad, I’m just too lazy to use intelligent words. So my go-to is always “fuck“. I’m mad? Fuck you. Didn’t like my food? Fuck that dish. Find out someone is badmouthing me? Haha. I don’t give a fuck. You don’t like me? Your fucking loss. You fuck with someone I love? I’ll fuck you up. You talk badly about one of my friends? I’ll tell you to go fuck yourself.  My son got 100%? That’s fucking awesome! My daughter drew a flower? Fuck yeah! My husband is coming home early? Whoa – that’s fucking rare…. but also fucking amazing!!!!!! Okay, now that I’m rambling, allow me to finish this by stating simply that, we all come in different shapes and sizes, and regardless if you’re a size 4 or 14, we all have feelings. And while the size 14 might find it obnoxious that a size 4 person would not be happy with the way they look, it doesn’t make our feelings any less valid. So when a thin person tells you they’re feeling ugly, fat, lonely, whatever, please don’t roll your eyes. Sometimes all a person needs is someone to hear them. Believe me – there is a stark contrast between listening to someone and hearing them. Hearing someone goes much deeper. By hearing them, you allow yourself to put yourself in their shoes, even if only briefly, and you can often see things from their perspective. It’s amazing what kind of friend you can be when you HEAR what other people have to say instead of just listen. …… More on that topic later. P.S. You know how ‘they’ say writing shit down helps? Well FUCK ‘THEY’. Who the fuck are ‘they‘ anyway? Talking scales – that’s who.]]></description>
		<wfw:commentRss>http://www.wirlproject.com/why-does-my-weight-get-to-dictate/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>
